


A Helping Hand

by angelic_peach



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: General Sass, Govart, Laurent being a nice person, Nicaise - Freeform, No Spoilers, Pre-Captive Prince, Regent - Freeform, laurent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:25:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6846919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelic_peach/pseuds/angelic_peach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How I imagine Nicaise and Laurent meeting for the first time.</p><p>~</p><p>The young boy (though they were all young) ran in through the door and turned around to close it. He managed to complete the feat, though he was breathing hard by the time he finally managed to shut it. He slumped against the door a and looked around, stopping when he spotted Laurent. He shifted his weight, no longer appearing like the round-cheeked, blue-eyed boy he was. He stood straighter and eyed Laurent with a distaste as if Laurent was the one that had intruded on an otherwise quiet evening in the library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction I've posted, so all kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. Nobody beta'd this, so I'm sorry for errors. (If I made errors, feel free to correct me in the comments.) I really wanted to write about Nicaise and Laurent's relationship, so here you go. I don't really feel like I did any of the characters justice, but I tried. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy.

A young boy (though they were all young) ran in through the door and turned around to close it. He managed to complete the feat, though he was breathing hard by the time he finally managed to shut it. He slumped against the door a and looked around, stopping when he spotted Laurent. He shifted his weight, no longer appearing like the round-cheeked, blue-eyed boy he was. He stood straighter and eyed Laurent with a distaste as if Laurent was the one that had intruded on an otherwise quiet evening in the library.

  
Laurent marked his place in his book with a finger before closing it, looking at the child. “Can I help you?” He asked the boy.

  
The boy looked around the room, brown curls bouncing on his head. Pearls shone brightly in his hair. A gauzy skirt wound its way around his hips, barely hiding his body. His eyelids and lips were dusted with gold. A golden collar rested on his delicate neck and two golden shackles were cuffed around the boy's delicate wrists, most likely for decoration than necessity. Everything about him spoke of breakable, yet he held himself up as though he were indestructible. His brow furrowed in an expression of annoyance. “I’m looking for the court. He’s supposed to meet me there.” The boy said in a petulant tone.

  
Laurent could tell he was lying, and wondered what exactly he was running from. Though, on further contemplation, there were very few that had a preference for younger slaves and even fewer that could afford the gold that the slave wore. Laurent shed his face of emotion, hiding his feelings of disgust at his uncle, instead he donned a bored, contemplative look. “Well, this is the library.” His voice conveyed the same message of his face, blasé and uninterested.

  
The boy scoffed. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” He looked pointedly at the shelves of books behind Laurent.

  
Laurent could see the child’s pulse thrumming in his pale neck like the beats of a hummingbird’s wings. Laurent settled back further in the couch, moving to open the book again, an obvious dismissal. “The court is in the South Wing. We are currently in the West Wing. I’m afraid you are sorely lost.”

  
The boy stood there, looking helpless for the first time, gaze shifting around like a caged bird. Laurent could feel the beginning tendrils of annoyance and shoved them down. Most likely, the boy would last a year. 

  
Laurent gestured towards the door and opened his mouth to say something akin to ‘get lost’ before he heard the voice of the Regent’s brute.  
“Hey, little bird.” Govart's voice rang out in a sickly sweet (yet out of tune) sing-song through the hall outside the library. Heavy footfalls stopped outside the library door and the boy looked at Laurent, eyes pleading.

  
“Please don’t.” He whispered. The plea jarred Laurent. He evaluated the boy from the tense set of his fragile shoulders to the bare feet specked with soil.  
Then Laurent, for the first time since his brother died, took mercy on someone. He closed his eyes and gave a single, minuscule nod. The boy scurried behind the couch Laurent was reclining on. His dark head had barely ducked out of sight right before Govart threw his weight into the library door, bursting in. Laurent chose to ignore the splintering of the expensive wood, instead choosing to raise his eyebrows at the tall, uncomely figure towering above him.

  
Govart was infamous for his unsightly and near grotesque look. His hair hung down in greasy strings, covering his black beady eyes (Laurent thought he looked rather like a weasel) and his his lip stuck out in a childish, clashing with his nature. He loomed above Laurent, fat fingers clenching into fists.

  
“The fuck did he go?”

  
Laurent looked at him with cool blue eyes, exuding vibes of repulsion. “I’m not sure who you are referring to, but I’m not frankly surprised that anyone would chose not to run from your face.” He said and Govart turned to him, seeming just now, to notice him.

  
Govart sneered. “The Regent’s new pet is supposed to meet him in his chambers and I’m supposed to bring that little brat so he can fuck 'im.” Laurent’s blood ran ice cold in his veins at the words, but he kept his composure and turned his eyes back to his book.

  
“Well, I hope you find him in time. The Regent is not known for his patience.” He looks up at Govart, ice blue eyes meeting coal ones. “And woe behold anyone who cannot provide for him.” Laurent could see Govart's jaw twitch and his eyes dared Govart to say something to him. But Govart just took a second to scowl at Laurent before leaving the room, grumbling and stomping the whole way.

  
When the door slammed shut behind him, Laurent turned behind the couch to face the boy. “He’s gone. You can come out now.” His voice came out more gentle than he meant it to and he internally scolded himself.

  
The boy stood up and adjusted his skirt, so it hides more of his skin and Laurent averted his eyes. The boy smirked, but inclined his head. “Thank you. What’s your name? I’ll try to put in a good word with him for you.” Laurent noticed that the boy avoided using the Regent's title, but ignored it. He instead focused on the subtle Veretian diplomacy of the boy. All debts repaid in a simple and polite fashion. This boy knew how to chose his enemies carefully. Perhaps the boy would last for more than one year. 

  
Laurent could feel his mouth curving up in a smile, a warm, almost forgotten feeling creeping into his chest. (He hadn’t felt it since his brother died.) He shook his head slightly “That’s not necessary, you don’t owe me anything.” The boy frowned, pouting slightly, his golden-dusted lip catching light from the sun.

  
“I insist. There must be something I can do for you.” He said, his gracious tone at contrast with his childish body language. Laurent shrugged and set his book down on the couch beside him. The boy tensed when he stood, but did not move when Laurent walked towards him.

  
“I suppose you could allow me to show you to the Regent’s rooms.” The boy didn’t flinch at Laurent’s use of the Regent’s title, like Laurent expected, instead looking up at him through narrowed eyes, suspicion made clear in his posture. In truth, Laurent did not want the boy to get into trouble with his uncle and he would be able to soften the blow of his uncle's annoyance if he was there. 

  
“Fine, but I don’t owe you anything then.” Laurent smiled an almost honest smile. The boy lacked subtlety, but he wouldn’t when Laurent was done with him. The boy could have the makings of a leader, even though he did not have the honorable background.

  
Laurent extended his hand and the boy looked at him, searching for a double meaning or a trick. Finally he seemed satisfied that it was not much more than someone lending a helping hand, and his small fingers intertwined with Laurent’s. No, Laurent would make sure that the boy lasted for longer than a year in this castle. 

 

The boy lasted for three. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really have a lot of feelings about Nicaise and to all the people who are writing fanfiction with Alive!Nicaise: you are doing God's work, God bless. (No, I'm not religious.) (But I do need Jesus.)


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